


My Precious Porcupette

by CyanAndCharcoal



Category: Ruby Redfort Series - Lauren Child
Genre: Family Reunions, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-11-01 22:01:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20521328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyanAndCharcoal/pseuds/CyanAndCharcoal
Summary: After the events of ‘Blink And You Die’, the Count is surprised to receive a message from a past acquaintance.





	My Precious Porcupette

**Author's Note:**

> Because we deserved to see more of these two together in the books, and I need more info about the time they spent in Australia.

He stood at the end of the second floor hotel hallway, knowing that the door marked with the number 45 awaited ahead. Outside the window beside him the only sources of illumination on this night were the windows of other buildings and street lamps, which revealed the drizzle of rain starting to seep from the heavens.

Count Von Viscount rarely ventured outdoors publicly under any other conditions. 

He looked down at the note in his hand. Handwritten, with an expensive fountain pen. 

_Room 45, Grand Twin Hotel. Come when you get this. _  


The Count had found this short but very telling message lying atop a rock he passed while keeping up his fond pastime of walking along the beach, pinned at the corners by stones so that the wind couldn’t steal it away. He may not have noticed it if it were not for the strong, deliberate leftover scent of Turkish delight that guided him to his destination. 

How had he reacted knowing that Lorelei was still alive? Initially, there had been a strange thrill as his heart of charcoal started to thud a little faster. But that was quickly overshadowed by what could either have been admiration or exasperation at her nerve. Lorelei could have stayed ‘dead’. She would only reveal herself if she desperately needed something from him (whatever it was, he would be highly unlikely to provide it given that she had betrayed both him and Marnie) or she was bored enough to throw her life on the line to see how a confrontation with him would play out.

With Lorelei one could never be sure, but it was unlikely she was interested in harming him. So far, at least. If she had wanted to, she could have captured him, tortured, killed, etc without revealing herself. 

Yes, the Count was curious.

He wrapped his knuckles against the door only for it to edge inward. That was risky. But the person she had feared most was dead without a doubt. And now she had willingly summoned the next one in line.

The Count pushed the door with more force and let it slide all the way around on its hinges. The room behind didn’t surprise him at all. Much larger than was needed for one person, a double bed pushed up below the window, which was obscured by thick red velvet curtains. Pushed against the side of the bed facing the door was a sofa with flawless white cushions, mirroring the complexion of the woman lying on it, eyes closed and head hanging back over the edge to face the ceiling. As she heard the door creak, Lorelei let her head loll in the direction of the sound and her eyes open nonchalantly. 

“Do come in.”

This the Count did, pushing the door shut behind him and evaluating how she’d chosen to dress today. An expensive, loose fitting silk grey shirt that complimented the many strands of blonde hair that had escaped her pony tail and cascaded down over her shoulders. Black knee length skirt and a matching pair of stilettos sat by the bottom of the sofa. 

And no mask. It was her face, exactly as he remembered it.

As he took a few steps further into the room, Lorelei sat up and pushed feet decorated with onyx nail polish into said shoes. 

She always did have an elegant sense of style. But the colours - probably an association, intentional or not, with funerals. Dressing well lest these moments be her last.

Or she was trying to match his unaltered colour scheme, pleading for a chance at cooperation. Either option was rather flattering to him.

“My dear.” The Count smiled a smile that he knew would send chills up the spine of even the most fearless beast. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”

“How could you? Everyone thought I was dead.”

As always her voice never betrayed fear. But Victor Von Leyden had not been compared to a shark for nothing. He could smell it like a drop of blood in water. Yet this time the scent wasn’t as strong.

“And what a welcome illusion it was. Do tell how you escaped that plane crash.” 

She made her way over to a table and poured two glasses of brandy from an open bottle. “Help yourself.”

Lorelei sat back on the sofa with her glass. When she saw how his eyes didn’t leave the remaining glass, she rolled her eyes and took a significant drink of the liquid before her. “Satisfied?”

“Do you think me an amateur? The other glass could easily be poisoned.”

She muttered, “honestly,” and stood up, walked over and drank from his glass before sinking back onto the sofa as if nothing were wrong.

The Count chuckled lightly as he picked up the glass, turned it so he would drink from the same side as she did, and let the liquid slip down his throat. This really did remind him of simpler times.

Maybe that was the intention. 

“The plane crash.” Lorelei took another generous sip before stretching her arms along the back of the sofa. “I’ll tell you if you explain how you survived the fall from the Eye Tower.”

Of course, she’d read about it in the papers. “Spectrum-“ The Count’s mouth twisted a little as that distasteful word escaped it, “may think they are the only ones in this war to be equipped with advanced technology, but they are mistaken, as always.”

Lorelei gave a thoughtful nod as she sipped the warming liquid before glancing up. “So what is it? Wings in your jacket? Propellers on the soles of your shoes?” She laughed softly, no doubt picturing the Count flying around Twinford. One could almost forget the dreadful things she’d done when they heard that angelic sound.

“I see no reason to reveal the extent of my intellectual superiority to you. I assume surviving the crash was sheer luck on your part.”

“More or less. After I threw the Redfort brat from the plane that bodyguard of hers kicked me to the ground. I jumped back up to find her assistant attacking him while she grabbed the parachutes, only for her to throw the rest out of the plane and jump. The bitch.”

The Count leaned against the wall, running his long fingers along the rim of the glass. “It runs in the family.” He couldn’t resist mocking her disdain for her mother - clearly displayed by her constant use of pronouns to describe her. “Don’t pretend you would have done any different.” 

Lorelei scowled and tightened her grip on the glass, no doubt picturing Marnie Novak’s neck in its place. “Once we realised the plane was clearly going to crash, all three of us fought to the exit, during which her hired goon got pushed backwards and knocked out. Spectrum’s finest got out a few seconds before me, and clearly assumed that I died in the resulting explosion, when I actually fell into the snow and was obscured from his sight by a piece of the plane’s wing. I heard the avalanche that unfortunately didn’t finish off Ruby slippers, but did get what’s his face-“

“Hitch.”

“Right. Got him hurrying off, and when it was safe I crawled out and made my way to civilisation, almost freezing to death in the process.”

The Count tutted. “Just as I thought. Pure luck. You never could quit while you were ahead, could you Lorelei? Then again, you haven’t really ever been ahead for long. Was another attempt at revenge on ‘the bitch’ worth the risk?”

Lorelei sipped the brandy, staring at her stilettos as she moved her feet, observing how the light on them changed. “Well it’s not like my life was ever worth much. You should know, being pals with her.”

“My dear, I tire of this pronoun game. Oughtn’t you to speak a little more kindly of the dead?”

“My. Mother.” The words were drenched in spite. 

“Finally accepted the truth, have we?”

“Enough of that. It doesn’t change anything. She was always dead to me, now it’s just a little more permanent.” She turned to him, eyes widened and voice full of fake innocence. “Gone to pay your respects yet? Oh wait, they still haven’t found her body.”

“Lorelei.” His use of her name to address her brought a swift sense of nostalgia, causing her lips to part slightly in puzzlement as he removed himself from the wall and took a few steps towards her. “Your mother and I...had a complicated relationship.” 

Waving her glass, she sank her head back onto the cushions and stared at the ceiling. “Don’t say anything. I can guess it all, and I don’t particularly want to hear it.”

“It was never romantic. Not for her at least.”

“I don’t know if that’s better or worse.” Lorelei moved forward on the sofa and looked up at him, nonetheless curious as to what he had to say.

“I cared for Marnie greatly when she was my protege. Hence why I gave you my name to protect her reputation after the Katzel scandal.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“If you didn’t want to be reminded, you shouldn’t have invited me, or at least changed your name. Anyway, Marnie looked up to me very much, but eternal admiration and gratitude were the extent of her affections. After her relationship with you became problematic at such a young age-“

“She blamed me for the ruination of her pitiful career choice, never once thinking to consider that sleeping with a married man might have been her fault. Yes, I remember quite clearly.”

“-more profitable professions began to look very appealing. She headed off overseas to help start our criminal ventures while, out of the goodness of my heart, I stayed behind to raise you until you were old enough to support yourself. Spectrum, and especially Bradley Baker, quickly became interested in my work. An insider was exactly what I needed, and so finding Casey Morgan was initially a dream come true.” These last words were said with undisguised malice.

The corners of Lorelei’s mouth crept up. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t have risked it all for revenge on her?” When he didn’t answer she just looked down and shook her head. “Buzz. No one saw that coming. Not even you.”

“Not my finest moment.” The Count set his glass down on the coffee table. “I thought it was Hitch.”

“Hitch?” Lorelei laughed aloud. “You can’t be serious. He would sell his soul to save Redfort’s skin.”

“You of all people should know that appearances can be deceptive.”

“Funny you should say that, since you seem to have had exactly the same problem. I’m surprised you didn’t expect it. You did raise me after all.”

The Count chuckled quietly, and it almost seemed genuine. “And I don’t regret it. Even if we haven’t always seen eye to eye.”

“Well it certainly wasn’t out of ‘the goodness of your heart’. I’m guessing you were still in love with dear old Marnie.”

He sat down on the other end of the sofa, and Lorelei fought an instinct to shift closer to the edge. “I wouldn’t quite say in love. I had always felt a strong obligation to her. But maybe I had grown a little fond of you. I could tell we would do great things together.”

Slowly, she finished her brandy and set the glass on the soft carpet. “You know, I’ve been wondering for some time-“ Out of the corner of her eye she saw the Count incline his head with an air of polite interest. “You may have been the one enslaved by your feelings but my mother never did or thought anything without some form of coercion from you. Did you play any part in her hatred of me?” Lorelei kept her voice level, knowing that it truly was a question of mere curiosity. She would not have wanted her mother to stay in her life any longer than she had. 

The Count looked her right in the eye when he answered, and somehow, looking into his bottomless black orbs assured her that his answer was honest. “Her feelings toward you, unjust though they were, were entirely her own. I did not, however, do anything to dissuade her of the notion.”

“Why not?”

He ran a hand through her hair, marvelling at how consistent it’s colour had been since her youth. “Maybe I liked having you all to myself. You always have been my favourite creation.”

The statement was both a compliment and a mockery, but - much to Lorelei’s surprise - it was the former that played a greater part in his voice. It was true though. She would have been nothing without his training and guidance. The films he showed her, the books he had taught her to read, they all illuminated that precious talent of manipulation. And the greasepaint she had eagerly awaited every birthday, he showed her how to become someone else. She enjoyed tricking others, she enjoyed feeling powerful, but at the time what she had enjoyed most was not feeling like herself. 

At some point they decided it was safer not to grow too affectionate towards each other. Lorelei hadn’t been happy to hear that a man who had raised her had merely waited until she was old enough to look after herself before returning to America to pursue a career as a criminal. She wasn’t angry that it was illegal, she was just angry that he was doing it without her. She wanted to despise him as she did her mother - she should have hated him more, given that he left knowing she had cared for him as a guide, a mentor, a father even - but the world she wanted to be a part of, one of double crossing and exploitation of weakness - left no place for the man in charge to admit that he cared for this girl. Maybe there was some altruism in it. If Marnie found out, Lorelei would have suffered for the rest of her life. 

Of course, the Count had neglected to mention that he would be starting his career with Marnie as second in command. At some point during her early childhood, Lorelei’s desire to forget the way her mother had looked at her before she left morphed into pretending that she was dead. Whether she truly believed it or not didn’t matter as it would inevitably occur. Lorelei had decided that if she ever saw her mother again, she’d have made certain of it. 

The Count knew his words had touched her when her eyes darted to an opposite corner of the room. Subtly, he moved closer to her.

“Lorelei, why did you summon me if not to kill me?”

She turned back to him, trying to show threat in her gaze, but the ice that normally coated her eyes was now cracked. “What makes you think I won’t?”

“You would never take such a stupid risk if you knew where to find me. You could easy have kidnapped me and done whatever you liked.”

“Fair enough. You really shouldn’t pick such open places though, at least not without a disguise. It’s a wonder Spectrum hasn’t found you yet.”

“They often fail to see what’s right in front of them. Answer the question.” 

Once again she delayed. “I...wanted to warn you-“

Sternly, he cut her off. “Do not lie to me. Everyone knows the third chance is the last.”

“So I’ve heard,” she murmured, recognising that this referred to not only the present situation but the two times she had previously betrayed the Count and her insipid mother. “Fine. I wanted to know if you still had any trace of the affection for me you once had. Normally I would never sink so low, but...after nearly dying, your perspective tends to shift a little. I’m surprised you told me half the things you did, given that you probably don’t trust me at all.”

“What can I say. Finding out that you were wrong about the identity of Casey Morgan, which I only discovered when she pushed me off a building, seems to bring out the sentimental in me.” 

“I’m glad. Shame she didn’t finish off Redfort though.”

“Brings me onto my next point perfectly. You don’t need to trust someone if you know what they want, and I’m afraid you, my precious porcupette,” - Lorelei actually smiled at his childhood nickname, which even now rather suited her - “have always been an open book. You still haven’t given up on revenge. Out of the two of us, I’m fairly sure I have more cause to want her dead.”

“She got me sent to prison.”

“From which you escaped, and here you are, bathed in luxury as always. By the way, I don’t think anyone gave you proper credit for that - it was quite ingenious.”

“I still can’t believe you didn’t finish her off when you had the chance. Luring her to a crypt with some creepy Snow White references - which were very fitting, how did you come up with it? - it would have been perfect.”

“Who do you think my Evil Queen was? Anyway, I left her alive knowing my little apple would cause her plenty of grief, and I hoped Casey would get the job done for me. You’ve been down that road of slow suffering too, if I recall, and you almost pulled it off.” 

“Her pathetic boyfriend Nancy Drew sniffed me out. He will suffer just as much as she does when my day of reckoning arrives.”

“I suggest you refrain from marking such an occasion in your calendar until you’ve heard what I suggest. To bring down Miss Redfort, we must also bring down Spectrum. They are her guardian angels. She wouldn’t have stood a chance against us if she didn’t have the gadgets and manpower that dastardly organisation provides. No, we must aim to play a long game.”

“Hope you aren’t about to suggest Monopoly.”

“Nothing so dull. I will begin rebuilding my position here in Twinford, finding people we can trust.”

“And me?”

“You have the advantage of being dead. Use it to get out of town. Find somewhere you can thrive, make plenty of easy money - we’ll need it. And when the time comes to strike-“

“You’ll send me a postcard?”

“Something like that.”

She was silent for sometime. “I don’t like being on the sidelines, but I also don’t blame you. You can’t rebuild the authority and power you need with me at your side. I just think you could make use of my talents.”

“And that’s exactly what I’m suggesting. Find a big city, you seem to like those. Have some profitable fun and at the end of it, I can promise revenge will taste much sweeter. Besides, this way you can stick to the Turkish delight.”

“You’ve got me there.” Lorelei stood and so did he. “I’ll be gone tomorrow.” She held out a hand, which he shook. “Goodbye, Victor.”

“Goodbye Lorelei. I’m glad we’re back in business.”


End file.
